


feet on the ground now

by PunkHazard



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 20:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkHazard/pseuds/PunkHazard
Summary: In all the fuss of the Kingpin collider, cross-dimensional encounters and learning to be Spider-Man, Miles's roommate does him the favor of pretending he hasno ideawhat's going on for an entire week. He waits for the day Miles swings in through their window, looking relaxed after a successful morning of crime-fighting, to glance up from his laptop.Miles extends a fist, the bright white eyes of his mask narrowed in silent laughter, and Ganke bumps it with his own. "Hey," says Miles.Ganke keeps his tone level, his expression open. "So you're the new Spider-Man," he says. "Cool."





	feet on the ground now

In all the fuss of the Kingpin collider, cross-dimensional encounters and learning to be Spider-Man, Miles's roommate does him the favor of pretending he has _no idea_ what's going on for an entire week. He waits for the day Miles swings in through their window, looking relaxed after a successful morning of crime-fighting, to glance up from his laptop.

Miles extends a fist, the bright white eyes of his mask narrowed in silent laughter, and Ganke bumps it with his own. "Hey," says Miles.

Ganke keeps his tone level, his expression open. "So you're the new Spider-Man," he says. "Cool."

Miles pulls off his mask, tosses it to his desk and grins. "Yeah, uh. Nice to meet you?"

Ganke turns briefly back to his computer, hits a button, then swivels his seat around to face Miles again. "Who were those other guys?" he asks, doing an admirable job of keeping his cool. He picks up a comic, idly spins a pen between his fingers and politely reads while Miles changes out of his costume and into a t-shirt, basketball shorts and hoodie. 

"That, my friend," Miles answers, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, "is a very long story."

Ganke indicates his computer with a flick of his wrist, his pen tapping against the edge of his desk. "Not like I got anything else to do while this is compiling."

"Okay," says Miles, sitting on the edge of Ganke's bottom bunk as his roommate puts down the comic. "Kingpin's collider dragged a whole bunch of... Spider-Men? from parallel alternate dimensions."

"And?"

"That's who they were. Spider... people. Gwen, Peni, Peter Porker, Peter Benjamin Parker and Peter B. Parker."

Ganke doesn't respond for a few seconds, expecting significantly more to the story, and when nothing's forthcoming, he ventures, "Then you all worked together to stop Kingpin and they went home, leaving you with deep and lasting cross-dimensional friendships and a new appreciation for your life as both Spider-Man and Miles Morales?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Cool."

"Totally cool."

* * *

"You should just let me," Ganke says, peering over Miles's shoulder as he's bent over an organic chemistry worksheet. "Do your thing, Spider-Man. The city needs you."

"I can do it myself, dude." There's a news clip playing in the background of Miles's laptop, some bank robbery developing in Bushwick. His heel taps erratically against the floor, costume boots making no sound against the carpet. He'd been putting off this homework for two days already-- it's due first period the next morning and knowing how these nights go, both Ganke and Miles know that he won't make it back before two a.m., at the earliest. 

Ganke doesn't consider himself any sort of sidekick, but as Spider-Man's roommate, there's only one moral choice here. "I know you can!" he says. "I got this assignment last year, you already know the material... I'll help you cram for tests if you need it but, you really don't need it."

Biting his lip, Miles grimaces at a particularly long question. Not difficult, but tedious. "Won't O'Brien know?"

"I got a sample of your handwriting," Ganke answers, breezy as anything. "You get full score or close-to every time. Who would know?"

"You serious, man?"

"I'm serious, man."

Miles flashes him a crooked smile, but his grip around the pen is already loosening, eyes drifting to his screen. "We really wanna contribute to stereotypes like that?"

"Yeah, dude. People are so afraid to look racist nowadays, they'd never accuse us."

That finally prompts a laugh, and Miles throws down his pen. He slides out of his chair, already tearing off his uniform shirt and trousers to reveal his hero costume underneath. Ganke takes his seat in one smooth motion, both of them moving with an efficiency and ease that belies the fact that they've only really been friends for like, two days. "Just this once," says Miles. "I really gotta get out there."

"Look," says Ganke, briefly inspecting what Miles has already filled in and practicing his handwriting on a spare piece of looseleaf, "someday, I'm gonna get to say that I did Spider-Man's homework, and I'll wait for the statute of limitations or whatever to be up on this, but that's like, some real cred right there."

"Okay. Okay, that's good." Miles is tearing around the room in search of his mask, which he usually keeps slung over the rail of his top bunk, but had fallen sometime in the night and is now buried under a pile of their dirty clothes. He makes a face when he finds it, but pulls it on. "You can totally do that. You gotta have like, been through a whole bunch of roommates before you say that, though. I gotta keep my secret identity."

"Yeah, of course."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou--"

* * *

Miles rarely had reason to visit the side of his borough that Brooklyn Visions resides in, so he counts on Ganke to give him recommendations, reviews of local restaurants and delis. But, being middle schoolers, they end up buying lunch at the local Burrito Bell more often than not. Which is where they've decided to take shelter from the wind tunnel along this portion of Wythe; the day is clear and sunny, but mid-December dips into sub-freezing temperatures are no joke.

"Hey Miles," Ganke says, leaning forward across the table, a Crunchwrap Ultimate in his hands, "you ever think about-- like, getting in touch with those guys?"

Miles motions for him to wait a minute while he desperately tries to swallow his mouthful of dry chicken burrito. Then, "Uh, who do you mean?"

"The other Spider-people?"

"I mean, yeah, I'd love to." He takes another thoughtful bite of his burrito, chewing slowly. "They're in a different dimension though?"

Ganke takes his time with his food as well, and when he finally finishes it, he crumples up the paper wrapping and sips on their shared drink. It's some concoction that Miles had formulated, primarily Bepsi and lemonade, with splashes of about three other sodas, but it's pretty good and Ganke doesn't complain. "I," he says, steepling his fingers with a grin, "think we can do it."

* * *

Miles had known Ganke was a Pretty Cool Guy the moment he walked into their dorm and saw his roommate's pile of comics and the pair of Rhythms by Tre headphones sitting on his desk. Bad luck that they were rarely in at the same time and Ganke usually stayed out until well after dark (working in the school computer labs, Miles would later learn), and always returned after Miles was already in bed (to keep working on his own computer). With all the stress of adjusting to his new workload, Miles hadn't introduced himself or made much of an effort to catch his roommate to get to know him better.

Ganke turns out to be some sort of tech wizard, which honestly isn't too uncommon at Visions, but he'd been _pissed_ when he learned about everything that was going down with the collider business. 'I could've helped!' he'd said, and in the weeks between properly introducing themselves to each other and winter break, he's... well, still pretty busy with his thesis, but always willing to help out a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

It's not long at all before Miles is comfortable calling Ganke his best friend. He's kind of a hipster but not the condescending gentrifier kind, they have similar taste in music and movies and comics. Ganke's a year ahead of him, technically a freshman in Brooklyn Visions High School, but they have classes in the same building and sometimes the same teacher for different subjects.

Anyway: all that to say Miles is pretty comfortable hauling him out to Queens to meet Aunt May.

She opens the door with a smile on her face, sets aside the baseball bat she'd had prepared to go, and steps outside to greet them. "Hello there," she says, leaning in to give Miles a kiss on the cheek. "Miles, it's good to see you again."

"Hi, Aunt May." He gestures at Ganke, who immediately brandishes the small box of clementines he'd insisted on picking up along the way. "This is Ganke, my roommate."

May takes the box with a smile and sets it on her living room table as she leads them inside. "Well," she says, already rummaging through a drawer for the keys to Peter's headquarters, "it's a real pleasure to meet you, Ganke. What brings you kids all the way out to Queens?"

"He was saying that we might be able to built a cross-dimensional communicator," Miles answers promptly, "but we need the quantum frequencies for the universes the other Spider-people came from. It was in the goober?"

"There _should_ be a record of it from when Peni made her copy." May looks at Ganke, curious. "Do you think you could do something with that?"

Ganke's a quiet guy, more accustomed to listening than talking, but no one could ever accuse him of being shy. He smiles, confident. "I think so!"

* * *

Peni's face gradually comes into view behind a wall of static, slight adjustments by both her and Ganke eventually bringing her into focus. She seems to be walking down the street, the backdrop of towering skyscrapers moving gradually past, hover-cars zipping across the skyline. "Miles?" she asks as the picture finally stabilizes. "I've been trying to reach you for weeks! Hi, Aunt May!"

"Weeks?!" Miles moves forward as Ganke scoots his chair aside, sticking his face closer to the screen for a better look at Peni. "We said goodbye! I thought it was for good!"

"Really? I took off so quickly because I knew we'd be in touch again." Peni smiles sheepishly, as she enters a building, ducks into a room and settles at a computer. She raps her knuckles twice against her temple. "Guess I didn't think that through."

Miles grins at her and claps a hand to Ganke's shoulder. "Nah, well, I'm lucky I have Ganke here, 'cause he's the one who suggested using the goober you made to get in contact with you guys."

"That's the idea! It had to be a two-way correspondence for this first step to work." 

First step. "How do we reach the others?" 

"Well, I have a button from Peter Benjamin." She rummages around in her pocket for a second and turns up a black button, its muted greyscale a stark constrast to the bright, shining chrome of New York City in 3145. "I think I can use it to triangulate the frequency of his dimension." 

"Gwen left a pair of ballet shoes," says Miles, motioning with a tilt of his head toward a storage locker. "I think they're the ones that came over with her. They're pretty rank." 

"What about Peter B.?" 

"Web slinger. I'm still using the one he brought over." May had provided him with others, but Miles had decided to stick primarily to Peter's until he broke in the new ones, scuffs and easy leverage on the tab from years of use making Peter's slinger more comfortable than any of the others. "And I have this?" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the mallet Ham had left. "It really does fit in my pocket." 

"Okay." Peni turns away from her camera, her face in profile as she types on a different console. "Do you know how to scan them and enter the quantum frequency?" 

"Uhhhhhh..." 

"I think that's where I come in." Ganke slides into the screen as Miles backs off. "Hi." 

"Hi! You also need a program to overwrite the reality coefficient of a quantum computer." 

"We don't even have OEM quantum computers yet," Ganke tells her, sticking a USB drive into a port, "but I've been writing a program using relative string vibrations to generate a quantum frequency and universal position. Can you do anything with that from your end?" 

"Hmm... yep, that should be possible. I can remotely convert whatever computer is at the coordinates you send me, and then we should be able to contact the others." 

"That's what you've been working on?" Miles whispers into his ear.

"Yeah," Ganke mumbles back. "It's pretty boring, though. I'm gonna submit the quantum positioning theory and apply for an internship at Stark Industries." 

"Awesome. It sounds like it'll be way more stable than Kingpin's collider, too." 

"Yeah man, I've got one piece of advice for you: try to stay away from time travel and multidimensional BS. They'll mess you up real bad if you're not careful." 

That prompts Peni to look up, swiveling her chair back around so she can address him through the screen. "He's not wrong, Miles. It's pretty inevitable in our line of work, but you have to be extra careful when that kind of situation arises." 

Ganke hits a key, sending a long string of numbers and symbols to Peni. "You get that?" 

"I got you. Establishing a permanent link... now." 

Other than a slightly louder whir from the computer's fans, Miles detects absolutely no changes from the desktop. Ganke nods, though, grinning wide. "Okay. We'll start bringing in the stuff that needs scanning tomorrow. What time's good for you, Peni?"

"Maybe late afternoon? School's out by then."

"Alright, sounds good." Ganke waves. "See you soon!"

"Catch you later, Peni!"

"It was good seeing you, Miles! Nice to meet you, Ganke! Yoroshiku onegaishimasu~"

* * *

"In US History?!" Miles hisses to Ganke just before they step into Mrs. Ross's office. "What is she _talking_ about?!"

Ross shuffles several papers on her desk as they enter her office, indicating the two seats in front of her desk. She's not just the school's APUSH teacher, but a dean of student affairs as well. "You wrote a paper on the environmental impact of the Industrial Revolution in New York City," she says to Miles, "the same topic that Mr. Lee used last year. _And_ you cited the same sources, in the same order. You know we take plagiarism here at Brooklyn Visions very seriously."

"That's good," says Miles, "'cause we didn't plagiarize."

She hands him two double-spaced ten-page essays, one with Ganke's name along the top and the other with his own. "These papers says otherwise, Mr. Morales."

"I didn't even know Ganke did a paper on that subject?" 

"And I definitely didn't give him mine," says Ganke, his brows drawn. He isn't particularly loud, but the simmering anger is clear in his voice and Miles is, not for the first time, thankful that his roommate had turned out to be one of his best and closest allies.

"The thing is, Ganke, it was an _extraordinarily well-written_ paper." Ross's compliment does absolutely nothing to soothe either of them. "It was such a standout that when I see a similarly outstanding paper, I'm immediately reminded of yours. And when I review your sources, your phrasing, and your chains of logic, I can't help but come to that conclusion."

Before Miles can say anything else, Ganke catches Miles by the elbow and takes a half-step forward. He's got no problem leveraging his stellar reputation with the teachers on Miles's behalf. "Mrs. Ross, can we all agree that my chains of logic are airtight?"

"I think we can, Mr. Lee."

"Then let's consider the scenario where Miles actually did copy off my work."

"Wha--"

"Just roll with it, Miles."

Miles looks at his calm, serious expression and throws his hands up. "Alright."

"Why would he use the same sources," Ganke asks, "cite them in the same order, quote almost word-for-word the same passages I did? If we were plagiarizing, wouldn't we check in with each other to make sure that didn't happen? Since we're roommates? Don't you think Miles is a smart enough guy to figure out how to copy a paper without being _this_ obvious about it?"

"Are you saying," Ross says, growing more amused by the second, "that if you were cheating, you'd never be caught?"

"That's not... _not_ what I'm saying."

"Do you know _why_ we catch plagiarism the way we do, Ganke? Miles?"

Ganke blinks. "Uh, no?"

"Because a word-for-word rehash of a previous paper means a student learned nothing. Someone who takes the time to cut, rephrase and look up different passages in order to write a different paper has, in actuality, done the work even if they did use the previous paper as an outline."

"What're you saying, Mrs. Ross?"

Ross picks up a pen and writes a bold A on his paper, then hands it back to him. "That I believe you, Miles. Thank you for coming in. You too, Ganke. Your chain of logic is impeccable."

Miles elbows Ganke on the shoulder as they arrive back in their dorm, letting out a loud, relieved groan as he clambers up to his bunk and collapses into bed. "Yo I almost had a heart attack!"

Slumping in his seat, Ganke peers up at him. "Man, how could you not check in?"

"Why would I check in?! I didn't even know you did the same topic!"

"Okay," Ganke concedes, "that's true, but that wasn't the class I thought we'd get caught for."

"Uh, that wasn't even the class we did anything in."

"Yeah I don't wanna get in trouble for something I didn't even do. That's the worst kind of trouble."

* * *

Peni's been regularly ringing one particular phonebooth closest to where Noir lives and hanging up every time someone other than Peter picks up. Word must have reached him eventually, because the third time she tries ringing the phone while Ganke and Miles are present, there's a click on the other end and gruff chuckle. "Haunted telephone booth, fellas?" He waits for the kids to finish cheering before he adds, "Clever. Blew my wig right off."

Peni's the one who speaks up first, giving him a chipper, "Hi, Peter!" 

"Hey there, Peni, May, Miles. Good to hear from youse." There's a shuffle on the other end, the sound of Noir taking off his hat and tucking it under his arm. No indication of whether or not he's in disguise. "How's all this work, anyway?"

"Quantum stuff."

"I'm not even gonna ask." After a second of silence, he shifts the phone to his other ear and holds his breath for a few beats, listening intently. "Who's this other cat I hear?"

"Oh, this is Ganke! He's my roommate."

"He could hear me breathing? It wasn't that loud, was it?"

"Oh. Hah. We startled ya there, didn't we? My apologies, Ganke." There's a clear grin in his voice, relaxed in his own world, no longer under immediate threat of disintegration. "I'm Peter. I'd slip you five if I could."

"No worries," Ganke answers. "Most kids in this city would kill for a chance to have Spider-people in their room."

Peni makes a thoughtful sound, frowning anxiously at the bars that fluctuate with Noir's voice for lack of a visual feed. "How are things on your end?" 

"Same old. Things are heatin' up overseas, though. Carries over here 'cause when's it ever not? Might be a war brewin' on the horizon."

"New York's so wack," Ganke comments under his breath. "It's like everything happens here."

"What you get for living in the greatest city in the world." Noir pauses, checking his watch. "Look," he says, "I gotta run. There's a television in my apartment, I'll tinker with it a little and see if you kids can't reach me through that."

"Okay," says Peni, "Let's aim for tomorrow afternoon."

"Then we'll flap gums some other time. Give the others my regards when ya get in touch."

* * *

"Miles! Hey, Peni, Aunt May!" Gwen seems to be in her garage, an assortment of instruments hung up on the wall behind her and the tops of two subwoofers visible on her screen. She peers into what's probably her laptop, catching Ganke's eye when he waves to her. "Is that your roommate, Miles? Sorry for scaring you that one time!"

"No worries." One thing that doesn't seem to change across multi-verses is how polite the Spider-People are. "Haven't I seen you around?"

"Hey, Gwen! This is Ganke." Miles grins at her, patting Ganke on the shoulder to prompt him to make space. "You busy?"

Gwen takes her headphones off her neck, then leans out of sight to disconnect something. "When am I ever not?" she asks, picking up her laptop and making her way out of the garage. "I've got time for you guys, though. You figured out how to link us all up? Where're the others?"

"We got in touch with Noir, but he had to run." Peni smiles at her, mouth working idly around a piece of gum, and then types something on her own console. "You can text the number I'm about to send you, and then your phone should be looped into the groupchat."

"Gotcha."

"How're we supposed to text Noir?" Miles wonders aloud.

"Let's haunt a typewriter," says Peni. To Gwen: "He says hi, by the way!"

"Aw, it's good to hear from him too. Miles, how's the Spider-Man life?"

"I got hit by my first drone!"

"Oh. Ouch. But also, congrats!"

"I know! Six million hits on MeTube!"

"MeTu-- y'know what, never mind." Smiling, Gwen sets her computer down in her room and shrugs out of her hoodie to reveal her Spider-Gwen costume underneath. She shakes her head and brushes her fingers through her hair a few times to push it out of her face and fit her mask on. "That's really cool, Miles. Send it to me once I'm in the groupchat! I gotta start my night, but I'll talk to you all soon, okay?"

"Get home safe, Gwen."

"Thanks. You too."

* * *

Spider-Ham's screen focuses on a dizzyingly bright landscape and he stands, arms akimbo, against the backdrop of several explosions frozen in time and multiple civilians in the process of being menaced. "Miles?!" He waves, cheerfully ignoring the outlandish violence behind him. "Well, whattaya know! Hey there, Peni!"

"Are we," Peni asks, squinting at her screen, "interrupting something?" 

"How are we communicating with him?" Ganke asks her. "Like, what're we projecting through?" He pushes his glasses up his nose and discreetly pulls up another window to scan a readout, which only reports that they're projecting through absolutely nothing.

Ham blinks several times. "Well," he says, "fourth-wall breaking in an internal monologue is just S.O.P. for cross-dimensional communication, isn't it?"

Miles and Ganke look at each other, equally confused. "Fourth-wall...?"

"A modern-day soliloquy? Quantum internal resonance? Are we on the same page here?"

"But it looks like you're in the middle of a fight," Peni says, tapping on her screen over the pixels displaying one man (canine?) cowering as a large chunk of building hovers several feet over his head. The only thing moving is Ham. "Shouldn't you get back to it?"

"Oh," he says dismissively, "I've got all the time in the world! You never stretched a five-minute sequence into sixteen episodes?"

"I have," Peni tells him, very seriously. "We don't get to break the fourth wall, though."

Miles nods, as if in perfect understanding. "I definitely have internal monologue, too. It doesn't freeze time or anything, but I can like, see the words in my head sometimes."

Ham winks. "Then you both know time's not really an issue here."

"Great!" Leaning forward, Miles continues with a breezy nonchalance that speaks to far too much time spent around this particular cartoon pig. "I wanted to introduce my roommate to you! He knows everything that went down."

Ganke leans into Miles's shoulder, grinning into the camera. "I'm Ganke. Nice to meet you?"

"So I take it," Ham says, peering up at him, "animals _don't_ talk in your universe?"

"They don't," says Ganke.

Nodding, Ham extends a hand, miming a fistbump. "Well, Ganke, I'm glad you've got Miles's back."

"Thanks." Returning the air-bump, Ganke exchanges a look with Miles and nudges his shoulder. "I'm glad to be here."

* * *

Miles is bouncing in his seat by the time they finally reach Peter B. Parker, a wide grin on his face as the static clears and the feed focuses on... a burrito. He exchanges a look with Ganke and taps the screen. "Peter?"

The burrito moves aside and the angle shifts, a finger dragging across the camera and leaving an oily smear. A few seconds pass while Peter turns up a greasy napkin and wipes it clean, burrito abandoned in its wrapper on his desk. He peers into the screen, eyes wide. "Miles? No way! You did it!" There's a bandage on his cheek but Peter's grinning, in high spirits despite whatever had injured him. Even a veteran Spider-Man racks up bruises. "I'm so glad to see you, wow!"

"Hey, it's good to see you too! How're things back home?"

Peter manages to turn up another napkin and he wipes his hands before he picks up his phone again. "Y'know," he says, "I got in touch with MJ recently. We're trying to work things out."

"That's awesome."

"Is that your roommate?" Peter smiles, a little sheepish. "Man, I'm sorry about the way we first met, there wasn't really time to explain."

"Nah, it's fine. I'm Ganke, by the way."

"Peter. Wow, I guess you know what's going on, huh?"

"More or less."

Miles grabs Ganke's shoulder, shaking him gently. "He's the one who figured out we might be able to find everyone again with the goober!"

Peter's expression softens. "Hey, that's great. We all need a guy in the chair."

Ganke catches Miles's eye, brows quirking. "I'm your guy in the chair?"

"I mean," Miles says, thoughtful, "you're not _not_ my guy in the chair. I guess I kinda need a guy in the chair."

"I don't mind being your guy in the chair," Ganke tells him. 

"Okay." Very seriously, Miles picks up one of several goobers scattered across the desk and presents it to his roommate. "Ganke Lee, will you be my guy in the chair?" 

Always one to join in theatrics (reasons Miles had known they would be tight after their first conversation), Ganke clutches his chest. "Yes," he gasps, feigning shock while Peter laughs along, "yes! A thousand times yes." 

"Aw. Your first guy in the chair!" Somewhat more seriously: "And if you're lucky, the only one."

"If I'm _lucky_?!" Miles repeats.

"I don't mean that in a 'chair guy's in imminent danger' way," Peter clarifies immediately, picking up the remainder of his burrito and using it to gesticulate as he talks, "I mean that in a 'it's always good to have someone in your corner because life has a way of getting in the way, and your guy in the chair is your first and last line of defense on the job and in life because he's the only one who knows everything about you' way. You have to trust him." After a moment: "Or her, or them. Your guy in the chair can be any gender."

"Got it." Miles considers that Doc Ock must have made Peter _thoroughly_ reconsider his gender biases and forced him to be more conscious of his language. "It's a non-gender-discriminated position."

"Did you have a guy in the chair?" asks Ganke.

"I did!" Peter nods. "He's doing good, but he's got responsibilities other than being my guy in the chair now. We had a good run, though. Hell of a guy. Hell of a chair."

"We're gonna loop you into a group text," Ganke says, "if that's okay?"

"Yeah! I gotta run, anyway. Think there's a robbery going down in Hell's Kitchen and Daredevil's on vacation in Aruba this week."

"Good luck with MJ!" Miles calls out as the static begins to overtake the feed again.

"And the robbery," Ganke adds.

"Thanks, guys. We'll talk soon."

* * *

**NOIR:** YOU HAUNTED MY TYPEWRITER STOP  
**PENI:** and your TV ⊂(◉‿◉)つ  
**GWEN:** hey guys!  
**MILES:** sup  
**PENI:** if it bothers you, we can try something else?  
**NOIR:** IT DOESNT BOTHER ME STOP I PUT IT IN THE OTHER ROOM STOP  
**PENI:** ఠ_ఠ if it doesn't bother you, why are you telling us to stop?  
**GANKE:** hey everyone  
**HAM:** THIS IS PRETTY COOL IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF  
**NOIR:** THE STOP INDICATES THE END OF A TRANSMISSION STOP  
**GWEN:** why are they yelling?  
**GANKE:** did they still use telegrams in the 30s??  
**MILES:** you don't need to type it like it's a telegraph!!! just type normally!!!!  
**PETER B.:** oh my god  
**NOIR:** Telegraphs are going out of style. I'm guessing punctuation goes through?  
**NOIR:** What're those little symbols Peni's using?  
**PENI:** whats a telegraph? (⊙＿⊙) is that like email?  
**PETER B.:** OH MY GOD  



End file.
